


Baby Give Me S'more

by 42hrb



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Tim, Bonding, Campfires, JayTim Week, JayTim Week 2017, M/M, Pyromaniac Boyfriends, Rated M for language, S'mores and shit, Tim likes fire, pyromaniacs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-06 15:59:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11603976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/42hrb/pseuds/42hrb
Summary: Jason was a little surprised when Tim called him for backup after not having spoken to him in a year.He really wasn't surprised when Tim had the stuff to makes s'mores after blowing up a building.





	Baby Give Me S'more

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thanks to Lars for being my sounding board and hero (and for the title, Lars is fucking amazing y'all)  
> Huge thanks for B and S for the beta read, you two are the wind beneath my wings. 
> 
> For Jaytim Week Day 3 - Campfire  
> This is _very_ lose interpretation of campfire....  
>  The general question was 'does setting a camp on fire count as a campfire?'

Jason woke to the sound of _Highway to Hell_ blasting out of his phone and he sighed, he had been having a great dream that was already slipping away, but there had been fire involved.

“The fuck you want Roy?” Jason said, not bothering to open his eyes, “It’s early.”

“Is it?” Roy asked, and Jason could hear music playing in the background. Roy probably hadn’t slept yet, “Anyway - can you tell me why your little birdie called me asking for the schematics for my rocket launcher?”

That caught Jason’s interest. He hadn’t seen hide nor hare of Tim since the replacement had returned from the dead. Well apparently he hadn’t been dead at all, he’d been kidnapped by some supervillain and Bruce hadn’t bothered to look for him.

According to Dick, Tim had come back to Gotham, flipped out on all of them, and then left. No one had been able to find him since, and this time the Bats were actually looking, but Jason knew that no one would find Tim unless he wanted to be found.

There had been moments since Tim came back where Jason could have swore Tim was there, but as soon as Jason looked he was gone. It was like he was teasing Jason, leaving gang members tied up, things going missing only to reappear days or weeks late. He didn’t know what to think of it, so he just didn’t think about it much.

“Ya know what Roy, I can honestly say I have no fucking idea,” Jason said, rolling over and pulling his blanket up to his chin, “You’ve heard from Tim more than I have.”

“Is someone jealous?” Roy asked, his voice teasing. There was a bang and Roy swore, “Fucking hell. I gotta go Jaybird.”

“Don’t blow your leg up Harper,” Jason said with a snort, cracking one eye open to see light coming in the crack where the blanket he had nailed over the window didn’t quite reach.

Roy laughed, “Not my leg we need to worry about.”

“Not worried about you at all,” Jason lied.

“Are too, you fucker,” Roy said, then he hung up, leaving Jason in the quiet of his bedroom, his phone still pressed to his ear, the sound of Gotham slowly starting to creep into the room.

He pressed his palms to his eyes and tried to will himself back to sleep, but after a few minutes he groaned and rolled out of bed, running a hand over his face. He’d drink some coffee, eat some eggs, and then he’d go find Roy and kill him for waking him up on his day of rest.

Except once he had some coffee and eggs in his system he was feeling less murderous and he had a couple cases he could work on. He grabbed a quick shower, rinsing off the sweat and what was probably someone else’s blood from the night before. In retrospect, he should have showered before going to bed, but he had been totally beat.

It was weird that Tim had asked Roy about the rocket launcher, or well, it _wasn’t_ weird and that was weird. He had kind of thought that Tim might reach out to him after he came back since he knew about coming back into their fucked up makeshift family after dying, or in Tim’s case, being left for dead.

His phone rang for the second time that morning while he was getting dressed. It was an unknown number, but it was his secure phone so whoever it was knew him or someone close to him.

“Who the hell is this?” Jason asked, his voice carried the hint of a threat.

“Well hello to you too Jason,” Tim said and Jason almost dropped his phone, “Is that really the way you answer your phone? It’s a little rude.”

“Rude, me?,” Jason said, sitting on his threadbare couch and kicking his feet onto the milk crates that served as his coffee table, “I’ve never been rude a day in my life.”

Tim laughed at that, a sound Jason hadn’t heard in almost a year and it made his heart skip a beat, “As much as I missed your wit and charm, this is actually a business call.”

“All work and no play can make Timmy a bad boy,” Jason told him, wondering what had finally pushed Tim to reach out. It had been almost three months since Superman had rescued him and two months and 29 days since Tim had fallen off the map.

Tim sighed and Jason smiled, “I need a favor.”

“Does this mean you’ll tell me where you are, everyone’s been looking for you,” Jason told him, scratching his stomach

“No,” Tim said, “But I’ll tell you where I’m going to be in a day. I could use a second set of hands for a job and you’re… I trust you.”

The sassy remark that Jason had queued up died on his tongue. He _knew_ objectively that Tim had trusted him before everything that had happened to him, but he wasn’t sure if Tim still trusted him, he had made it clear he didn’t trust any of the other Bats.

“If you’re busy I can ask someone else,” Tim said with a huff.

“Nope, I’m free as a bird Babybird,” Jason said quickly, telling himself that his cases could wait a couple days, they weren’t that pressing, “Just tell me where to be.”

“Moscow,” Tim said, his voice all business now. He sounded more like the Tim he remembered, more like Red Robin, but with an edge that hadn’t been there before, “Tomorrow. There’s a plane that will be waiting for you in two hours at the private airport.”

“Well alright then,” Jason said, getting up to start packing, “Anything in particular I need to bring?”

“Weapons,” Tim said, then the line went dead.

Jason grabbed a duffle bag and threw a bunch of his favorite guns and knives into it. He had lost his favorite gun a few weeks back, probably during a fight, but he had others that did the job just as well.

He paused for a second to figure out what clothes to bring. It wasn’t quite winter yet, but he’d been to Russia enough times to know that it didn’t matter if it wasn't winter yet, it would still be cold as fuck. He settled on his usual uniform and a thermal undershirt and hoped it would be enough.

There was a small charter plane sitting on the runway when Jason rolled up on his bike. He parked it in the lot, slung his bag over his shoulder, and walked over to the plane. He half expected it to be empty with GPS coordinates already programmed. Instead he found a pilot standing at the door of the cockpit.

“Mr. Todd I presume,” The woman said with a small smile, “I’ll be your pilot.”

“Uh, hi,” Jason said, tossing his bag onto the seat, “I’ll be your cargo I guess.”

She laughed, “That you will. Feel free to relax, we’ve got about 9 hours in the air.”

“Great,” Jason said, sitting down next to his bag and pulling out his laptop as the pilot went into the cockpit and closed the door. There was wifi on the plane because of course Tim splurged for the wifi.

He actually got some stuff done on the flight, combed through some surveillance footage that he had been procrastinating, and he watched Pride & Prejudice. Don’t judge him, it’s a great movie and it helps him relax.

“This doesn’t look like Moscow,” Jason said when they landed. The pilot just smiled at him and opened the door. Tim was waiting on the tarmac, leaning against a rusty looking van without an expression on his face.

Tim looked _good_ though, better than he had after he had been rescued. He had put on some weight, his face looked less hollowed out and his eyes more alive, his hair was still long but it was healthy instead of looking ragged. He looked older than 19.

“Thanks for coming,” Tim said, tossing Jason’s bag into the back of the van and extending a hand to shake.

Jason ignored the hand and pulled him into a hug, “Good to see you Timmy. Wanna tell me what we’re doing in Russia?”

Tim handed him a folder when they got into the van. He didn’t use a GPS as they drove through the winding back roads, “We are _in_ Russia right? I mean this clearly isn’t Moscow but I figured you wouldn’t tell me where you actually were, can’t risk the rest of the Bats finding out.”

“Yep,” Tim said, “We’re in Russia.”

“And we’re going to a campground?” Jason asked, flipping through the folder, “Mobsters?”

“Human traffickers,” Tim said, his voice like ice and suddenly Jason understood. The next picture he flipped to was an aerial shot of a campground with hundreds of children, “We’re going to save some kids.”

“Fuck yeah,” Jason said with a grin, “‘m glad you called me, I always like making fuckers like this suffer.”

Tim hummed in reply, his eyes on the road, but they looked like there was a fire lit behind them. Jason had never seen Tim like this, full of a righteous fury that could make the whole world burn. He liked it.

They drove in silence for almost twenty minutes before Jason broke and spoke again, “So where have you been? I kinda figured you’d come home eventually.”

“I - it was pretty clear that everyone had moved on, Bruce, Dick, the Teen Titans, so I thought my best plan of action would be to let them have their peace,” Tim said, his knuckles almost white on the steering wheel, “Plus, I had some time to think while I was being held in a 6 by 8 cell and I realized that the world isn’t what I thought it was.”

“You didn’t answer the question,” Jason said, fighting the urge to close the space between them and squeeze Tim’s shoulder, to show him that people _do_ still care. Maybe the world wasn’t what he thought it was, but not everything had changed.

“I spent some time in the Middle East, hung around the West Coast for a while, did a little adventuring in Europe,” Tim said carefully, “I’ve been back to Gotham a handful of times too, just not when the Bats are around.”

“The Middle East - fuck Babybird did you make a deal with the devil?” Jason asked, eyes a little wide. He knew that Ra’s had always had a bit of a… creepy little crush on Tim, but he never thought that Tim would take him up on any of his offers.

“No deals with the devil, scout’s honor,” Tim said with a laugh, pulling off onto an access road, the van bumping along slowly, “Just some trades.”

Jason didn’t want to think about what Tim traded, so he changed the subject, “And what exactly is our plan here? Does it involve a rocket launcher?”

“Roy’s got such a big mouth,” Tim said, but his voice was fond.

“You’ve got that right,” Jason said with a snort, “So we’re going to blow shit up, then what?”

“Then we put the kids on the bus that they have on site, drop them off with the police, and get the fuck out of Russia,” Tim said simply, like it was going to be the easiest thing in the world to rescue a bunch of scared kids from Russian mobsters.

Jason nodded, not knowing what to say next. Tim parked the van a few minutes later and they unloaded their supplies, “What are we doing with the bike?”

“Loading it into the storage area on the bus so we have a getaway car after we drop the kids off,” Tim said, “I don’t feel like dealing with the Russian authorities.”

They made their way through the forest, the sun starting to set as they walked. The bus was parked a few hundred feet from a cluster of cabins. As quietly as they could, the broke into the storage area and loaded the bike and some of their gear before Tim led them away from the cabins.

“Aren’t we here to save some kids?” Jason asked, looking over his shoulder as they crept through the treeline.

“First we’re going to kill the fuckers who took them,” Tim said matter-of-factly, slinging the rocket launcher over his shoulder and climbing onto the roof of a shed, “And they’re all playing poker in the office right there.”

It took Jason a full thirty seconds to process what Tim had just said, and when he did he almost fell off the roof, “Kill?”

“What, don’t tell me you went and grew a set of black and white morals while I was presumed dead, that would be boring,” Tim said, assembling the launcher with deft hands. Jason tore his eyes away from his long fingers and up to Tim’s face.

“You don’t kill,” Jason said dumbly, his eyes never leaving Tim, not even to check out the men they were going to be _killing_ in a few minutes.

Tim snorted, “Then I’m sure those drug lords in Colombia are fine with a bullet in their brains and that rapist in Bosnia is still alive and kicking without his dick or head.”

"What the hell happened to you, Replacement?" Jason asked, trying to keep the awe out of his voice and failing miserably if the smirk on Tim's lips told him anything.  
  
"I realized that you're right, some people deserve to die," Tim said, pulling his hair up into a little bun and added, "It looks like they’re all there, let's make this place go boom."

“I know this is going to sound fucking crazy, but we should talk before we do this,” Jason said, running a hand through his hair, his helmet under his arm as he stood up, stretching his legs a little to stop them from cramping.

"You know more than anyone, the world isn't black and white like Bruce thinks. That's the reason Joker is still alive, it's why I was locked in a cell for the better part of a year," Tim said, steadying the rocket launcher on his shoulder, his eyes hard and his voice even, "The world doesn’t play by Bruce’s rules so I’m making my own, if you don’t like them you can leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere Timbo,” Jason said, eyes on Tim as he pulled his helmet on, locking it in place.

Tim snorted, “That’s a first.”

“What the fu-” Jason started, but was cut off.

“Launching in 3-2-1,” Tim said, his voice full of life as the rocket flew out of the launcher and hit their target easily, the building going up in flames within seconds.

“Damn Babybird, you look good blowing shit up and killing fuckers,” Jason said with a laugh, “Ready to go save some kids?”

The office building was still in flames as they jogged past it, back toward the rest of the camp, which was about half a mile from the office area, deeper in the woods, “They’ll have a couple guards at the doors.”

“Unless they left to check out the _explosion_ ,” Jason said with a laugh.

Tim shot him a look and pulled a gun from a holster that Jason hadn’t spotted under his jacket,  “Then we’ll take them out when we find them.”

Jason let out a low whistle, “That’s a nice piece there, looks like one I lost a while back.”

“It is,” Tim said without looking at him and without explaining further, “There’s our targets.”

Two big guys stood about fifteen feet away from the door of a cabin, they both had guns in hand and their eyes were trained on the spot of light that was the burning office. Tim waved his finger in a way that Jason took to mean circle behind the cabin to take them out from behind. When Tim didn’t shoot him for making the wrong move, Jason assumed he was right.

Tim pressed the barrel of his gun to the skull of one of the men and Jason did the same to the other. In accented Russian Tim said, “Hell could use a couple more monsters.”

When Tim pulled the trigger Jason did the same, both men falling to the ground at the same time, “Stone cold Babybird.”

“I’ve got to live up to my new name,” Tim said moving his man so that he wouldn’t be seen when they brought the kids out, “Pull the bus around, I’ll start to round up the kids.”

Jason nodded, catching the keys and jogged to the bus, starting it so it would be warm when the kids got on.  Once it was started and pulled around to the front, he and Tim loaded the kids on, reassuring them that everything would be okay in whispered Russian.

“One last thing we need to take care off,” Tim said, handing Jason a gas can, “We’re lighting this whole place up.”

“Do you have a thing for fire Timmy?”

“I just thought the kids might like to see a campfire,” Tim said with a laugh that was like fire itself. Tim dropped a match and the gas went up in flames, setting the entire camp on fire.

“I don’t think that setting a camp _on_ fire counts as a campfire.”

Tim laughed again and he knocked his shoulder against Jason’s as they walked back toward the bus, “I’m driving.”

“The fuck you are,” Jason said, taking the keys from Tim as they climbed on, “You’re riding some crazy adrenaline rush from setting shit on fire, I’m not letting you drive a bus full of kids.”

They drove over an hour to a police station, let the kids off the bus, and grabbed their gear from under it. For a second Jason wondered how they were going to get out of town, until Tim heaved the motorcycle out of the storage area, “Well are you getting on or what?”

“Right, yeah,” Jason said, putting his helmet on and climbing on the bike behind Tim, holding him around the waist as Tim pealed out of the parking lot and drove for over an hour.

They stopped at a hotel and Tim checked them into a room, but they were both too wired to sleep, so Jason shed his layers of armor and sprawled on the bed, “So tell me Timbers, what hero name are you going by? Are you striking fear into all that hear it?”

For the first time since they had met up Tim looked a little flustered, “Uh, well, Red X.”

“Stealing my name again huh,” Jason said with a laugh, rolling over to face Tim, “Some things never change.”

“I suppose they don’t,” Tim muttered, “Thanks for the assist today.”

For a second Jason almost gave a sarcastic reply, but the earnest look on Tim’s face make the words stick in his throat. “You know I’ll come whenever you call Little Red, no matter what.”

Tim laughed then, light and almost sounding like Tim from before, “Little Red, that’s a new one.”

“Well red is clearly your color,” Jason said, his eyes starting to grow heavy as the day caught up with him, “You might earn Outlaw status yet.”

“It’s my one goal in life,” Tim said, flipping the light off and rolling under the blanket. Jason fell asleep before he could think of a response.

Not even five hours later Tim dropped Jason off at the plane and sped off with a, “See you around Jay.”

The flight gave Jason time to process what had happened in the last 24 hours. He was still tired, but he couldn’t seem to sleep, he kept thinking about Tim. He was different now, which wasn’t surprising, but it wasn’t the different that Jason was expecting.

He pulled out his laptop and instead of looking at his cases he looked through the security footage at his safe houses. Sure enough Tim popped up every few weeks, eating Jason’s food and occasionally stealing his weapons.

It should have been strange, but instead Jason just shook his head fondly and closed the videos before drifting off into an easy sleep.

Jason had been back in Gotham for over a week without any word from Tim. He figured that the Red thief would reach out when he was good and ready.

He had alerts set up around the world for anything that might be Tim, so far he’d gotten one out of China. A factory exploded and authorities discovered that it was being used to traffic women into sex slavery, the burned body of the ring leader was dropped outside the police department in Shanghai with a bullet in his head for good measure and a red X on his forehead.

But he wasn’t thinking about Tim right now, at least not really.  Tonight he was thinking about the gang that he was about to take out in the Bowery. They were a new addition to the streets of Gotham and the drugs they were peddling had already put over 50 high school kids in the hospital last weekend alone.

They broke Jason’s biggest rule and they had to be taught a lesson.

Jason busted into the shitty warehouse where the gang was holding up and distributing their drugs with his guns blazing, “Sup fuckers?”

As expected the gang members in the warehouse pulled out their own weapons, that didn’t surprise Jason. What surprised him was how many people were in the warehouse. He thought it would be 10 people max, instead there were at least 25 people with guns trained on him. He wasn’t worried yet; he’d gotten himself out of worse situations.

“Want some backup,” Tim said into his comm and Jason let out a sigh of relief.

“I’d prefer to not have any Bats busting in and judging my life choices,” Jason said, faking calm as he kicked the nearest person in the chest and he went down with a satisfying thud.

There was silence on the line and Jason’s heart sank for a second before Tim dropped from the rafters of the warehouse, “The only judgement coming from me is your choice of execution.”

“Oh and how would _you_ have handled it Little Red?” Jason asked, watching Tim for a moment as he shot one of the guys in the kneecap.

“Personally I like to make things go boom,” Tim said. Jason couldn’t see his face since Tim had donned a black helmet that looked similar to Jason’s own, but he could tell that Tim was smiling,  “We still have that option.”

Jason narrowly avoided taking a bullet to the shoulder before he spoke, “You got the place rigged?”

“Of course,” Tim said, “Did you think I was hanging out in the rafters for fun?”

“I don’t judge your life Timbo,” Jason said with a laugh, “Alright, let’s light this place up.”

“I brought stuff to make s’mores,” Tim said conversationally as they ran for the exit. Once they were fifty or so yards from the building Tim tossed Jason a detonator, “Your gang, your explosion.”

“You spoil me Princess,” Jason said, pushing the button and grinning as the building went up in flames with a large boom, “Shit that looks pretty.”

Jason turned to look at Tim and his breath caught in his chest. Tim had taken his helmet off and was watching the flames with a grin on his face. He looked like fire personified, like he could burn the whole world down if he wanted to, and Jason wouldn’t do a damn thing to stop him.

Instead he watched Tim for a few more seconds. He couldn’t get enough of him, he almost reached out and pushed Tim’s bangs off of his face, but instead he said, “We should get out of here before the cops show up.”

“Spoilsport,” Tim said, but he was still grinning. Tim followed Jason to where Jason had parked his bike, “Can I hitch a ride?”

“Sure,” Jason said, swallowing as Tim got on the bike behind him and help on tight. He didn’t ask where Tim was going, he just headed for the safe house that Jason had started to consider home, parked the bike in the underground garage, and headed for the elevator. He didn’t have to look to know Tim was following him.

They were both quiet while they stripped off their armor, Jason put his away and Tim set his in a neat pile near the door. Finally Tim broke the silence, “Nice place.”

“Like you haven’t been here before,” Jason said with a laugh, looking at Tim’s shirtless chest, at the way his compression shorts hugged his thighs, at the way his hair was pulled back into a bun, at his mouth.

“Yeah well, if you really wanted to keep me out you would have,” Tim said, stepping closer to Jason so that they were almost chest to chest. He reached up and pushed Jason’s white patch of hair off of his face and said, “We make a pretty good team.”

All Jason could do was nod before Tim’s mouth was one his. Tim kissed like he was drowning and and Jason was the only source of oxygen, like the world was ending, like Jason was holding him together. Jason was sure that Tim was going to burn him up from the inside out, but he didn’t want to stop, not ever.

They did stop eventually, both of them panting and their mouths red and wet. “You leaving?” Jason asked, sounding more vulnerable than he had meant to.

“Only if you want me to,” Tim said, reaching into the pile of his stuff and pulling his utility belt up, “I was just going to grab this.”

He held up a condom with a smile and Jason tried not to blush, “A little presumptuous.”

“Am I wrong?” Tim asked and Jason shook his head, “I didn’t think so. I’m the world’s best detective, I have Ra’s wrapped around my finger, I know how to read people.”

“Maybe don’t mention Ra’s al Ghul when I have a boner,” Jason said with a laugh, leading Tim to the bedroom.

An hour later they were both naked, sweaty, and smiling. Tim reached for his utility belt and pulled out a marshmallow, “The fuck Babybird?”

“I told you I had the stuff to make s’mores,” Tim said with a shrug, eating the marshmallow and pulling one out for Jason, “It wouldn’t be a campfire without them.”

Jason couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him, “Not every fire is a campfire.”

“It is if you believe it is Jason,” Tim said with a shit eating grin. He leaned up and kissed Jason, tasting like marshmallows and Jason’s come.

As he drifted off to sleep a little later Jason knew that there was a chance that Tim wouldn’t be there in the morning, but more than that he knew that Tim would always come back to him. He wasn’t ready to reconcile with the rest of the Bats yet, Jason understood that better than most people, but he wanted to make sure that Tim knew he wasn’t alone, not anymore.

The next time they blew up a building it was in Prague, Jason found a couple sticks on the ground and offered one to Tim before tossing him a bag of marshmallows, “Well go on then, every campfire needs some s’mores.”

Tim grinned and toasted his marshmallows, the fire reflecting in his eyes like it belonged there. Jason wrapped his arms around Tim’s middle and kissed his neck. Tim had been right all those months ago in Gotham, they made a pretty fucking good team.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](exhuastedpigeon.tumblr.com)


End file.
